Born a Royal Beast

Born a beast
in a bestial land of discontent
I made no covenant with dreams,
no compromise with pale priests
who blindly served divinity,
unsheathed my blade at every chance
to cleave the flesh, to crack the bones,
of any man who barred my path,
and kept my castle dark and mean,
its dungeon deep to house the screams.

Raised a beast
by a bestial man of harsh intent
I gave no quarter, asked for none,
no woman tamed my raging need,
the wenches sighed within my bed,
young virgins bled upon my sheets,
I rode the hunt into the dawn
upon a steed of vengeance black
and slew my father heedlessly
to claim his thorny crown of greed.

Praised as beast
by bestial men of hellish bent,
I took no pleasure in such things,
no friends to share my shadow plight,
but the falcon call and the battle din
filled my days and spent my nights,
I scourged the land with devilish deeds,
and those who preached of sin to me
soon tasted steel on their tongues
and spoke no more of any king.

A dying beast
in bestial shame who could repent,
I've left no living kin to mourn,
no grieving wife to wail and weep.
With the stench of age upon my breath
my earthbound flesh awaits its last,
I hear the throngs within the street,
the pale priests intone their cant,
I curse their mumbling litanies
and dream of hellfires when I sleep.

Appeared in Dark Regions Magazine